That Time of Year

We had driving vacations when I was a kid. We traveled to far away destinations – like Colorado.

It was inevitable at some point that my father, hauling his four little olive plants through a summer heat wave with no air-conditioning in the car, would have to pull over and force us to walk half a mile before he’d pick us up. We’d been bickering and driving him nuts. (Of course, my baby sister was probably immune from this torturous form of parenting. She was good at causing a rift without drawing attention to herself, too.)

Oh, it wasn’t all that bad. I actually made a comic strip on one trip. I detailed the car sickness, the games, the fighting, the teasing and such. Stick people drawings, but a written history of the excursions. We made the best of it and were rewarded with a swimming pool at every hotel we graced. (Back then they were NOT heated pools either!)

It would be fun to have a video of one of those trips, just to see how we all fared in a car, sleeping on the back window or floor. To relive the meals at big restaurants, also a treat as our little town only had a bar and cafe. And of course, to see the freedom we enjoyed as we ran amok at the YMCA of the Rockies, parents assuming we were just fine when we made it home for dinner.

I am declaring my parents saints.

2 thoughts on “That Time of Year”

  1. Station wagons, maps and AAA triptiks, full service gas stations, nice rest areas, nary a cell phone in sight! Glad we lived in that “era”!!

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